I am weary of begging readers to send in wildlife photos, as I have about three days left.  If nobody sends any in, we’ll go to sporadic presentations and then. . . . nothing.  Then the Caturday felids will go and then. . . the void.

But today we have a presentation by UC Davis ecologist Susan Harrison, who visited a wildflower farm.  Here captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them. There are two bird pictures at the end.

Visit to a Wildflower Farm

To restore degraded land and improve it for wildlife, there have to be farms that provide native plant seeds in large amounts. Native seed farming is a highly skilled enterprise in which source material is often gathered from the wild, cultivation must be done with care to maintain adaptive genetic traits, and all techniques from germinating through harvesting and storage must be tailored for numerous finicky plant species.  It’s a tough business to succeed in, and there’s a great need for more of it.

Hedgerow Farms in Winters, California is a much-admired member of Northern California’s native seed industry. Their chief scientist, a recent graduate of our Ecology program at UC Davis, invited me to attend their annual Field Day in April 2024.  It was a fun and enlightening experience.

Touring the fields on a hay bale ride:

Goldfields, Lasthenia californica:

Desert Poppies, Eschscholzia californica mexicana (orange field):

Cream Cups, Platystemon californica, with a smattering of Succulent Lupine, Lupinus succulentus, that was grown in the same field last year:

Blue-eyed Grass, Sisyrinchium bellum, not a grass but a member of the iris family:

The wildflowers (or “forbs”) are beautiful, but grasses are grown and used in much larger quantities.

Meadow Barley (Hordeum brachyantherum):

Purple Needlegrass, Stipa pulchra, the most popular species in Californian grassland restoration, intermixed with leftover California Phacelia, Phacelia californica:

Sedges, Carex species, essential for restoring streambanks:

Growing native seeds requires a great deal of both manual labor and creatively MacGyvered farm machinery.

Hoeing a field of Woolly Sunflower (Eriophyllum lanatum):

Seed cleaning apparatus, in which field-harvested material enters from the bins on the right of this photo, passes through a series of threshing and sifting machines adjusted differently for each plant species, and emerges as bags of nearly-pure seed:

Seed samples on display:

Native plants are also used for the conservation practices with which enlightened farmers retain their soils and support wildlife.  Tailwater ponds and hedgerows are two such practices that we saw on the tour.

Tailwater ponds are small wetlands that trap irrigation runoff and allow sediments to be recycled onto the fields:

Hedgerows are roadside plantings that provide food and cover for wildlife, and may stabilize canals and ditches:

A hedgerow of native shrubs (yellow: Flannelbush, Fremontodendron californcum; pink: Western Redbud, Cercis occidentalis; blue: California-lilac, Ceanothus); note the more typical, barren roadside in the foreground:

 

Okay, now for the animals!   Among this farm’s many community partners is the falconry club, who brought their beautiful birds to the field day. From left to right are a Peregrine Falcon (Falco peregrinus), female Harris’s Hawk (Parabuteo unicinctus), two Merlins (Falco columbarius), and male Harris’s Hawk:

Several birds and people in this photo are falconry-based pest abatement professionals. The most famous pest-abating bird is Rufus the Hawk, a Harris’s Hawk who keeps pigeons off the courts at Wimbledon.

Harris’s Hawk closeup:

From Allaboutbirds on Harris’s Hawk: “The most social of North American raptors, these birds cooperate at nests and hunt together as a team. When hunting, a group of hawks surround their prey, flush it for another to catch, or take turns chasing it. This hawk’s social nature and relative ease with humans has made it popular among falconers and in education programs.”

Today’s wildlife photos are by Rodney Graetz from Australia. His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Mornings by a Wetland

An adult Purple Swamp Hen (Porphyrio porphyrio) using its foot to hold back the long grass and let its two chicks begin the day.  Their grassy cave was not a nest, just an overnight camp.  Likely about 2+ weeks old, the chicks will now be supervised to forage along the water’s edge, but not out on it.  Adult Swamp Hens can swim, but pin-feathered chicks cannot.

Cattle in peak condition are described by cattlemen as ‘fat and shiny’.  We would describe this adult Dusky Moorhen (Gallinula tenebrosa) as ‘fat and shiny’.  Bright-eyed, bright coloured, with chest plumage freshly groomed, standing on a small raft of Cumbungi (Typha sp.), surrounded by wetland and grassland full of insects.  Its world is looking good.

A wren in non-breeding plumage: most likely a female Superb Fairy-wren (Malurus cyaneus).  Unusual to have stayed perched long enough to be photographed.  Their typical foraging and socialising activities are best described as feverish: one of continuous, high speed, flitting movement.

An adult Black Swan (Cygnus atratus) sublimely cruising offshore.  It is a female, judging by the neck length and the mass of curled ‘bustle’ feathers on its rump.  So far, this year, no (creamy white) cygnets have been sighted.

A Straw-necked Ibis (Threskiornis spinicollis) with a cape of iridescent feathers captured with bunched toes doing a wing stretch.  The ‘straw’ chest display involves specialised coloured and shaped feathers.  If you look closely, the deep ‘Saturday Night Fever’ vee-shaped gap in them indicates it is a male bird.  Spectacular formation fliers, they are great nomads.

Aware that the bird photo encyclopedist, John Avise, recently posted his photos of Australasian Darters (Anhinga novaehollandiae), we add a complementary one of a adult female stretching its surprisingly large gape, given its needle-like beak.  One can imagine the size of the fish that could be swallowed.

This Great Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo) is also ‘fat and shiny’ and in the breeding plumage of the bright yellow beak surrounds, and a barely visible crest low on the head and neck.  It is Australia’s largest cormorant species with a wingspan of 80+ cm (30+ inches).  It has a small feather stuck on its beak from an interrupted grooming.

We have posted this photo of an Australian Wood Duck (Chenonetta jubata) family before.  We repeat it here to contrast the next two puzzling photos.  The takeaway impression here is the close supervision of the 10 ducklings by both parents, especially the ever alert male: behaviour that makes this species a very successful breeder.  With this in mind, go to the next photo.

A cluster of 11 (Wood Duck) ducklings, aged 4+ weeks, instinctively huddled together for warmth and security.  Missing are any adult parents: a critical absence that we have never seen before.  These ducklings look ragged and stressed, so our conclusion is they have been orphaned.  But how?  All possible predators of just the adult birds – people, fox, native water rat – are implausible, plus there were no signs of struggle, feathers, etc.  We can’t accept that they were just deserted.

The cluster spontaneously but listlessly moved out onto the water to sit there, seemingly bewildered, and obviously lethargic.  Where now is safety at night: on land or on water?  On land would be most comfortable but unsafe, and ducks are reputed to never sleep on water.  Their future?  We’ve unsuccessfully searched for them since.  A mystery, still.

From Jerry: The abandoned ducklings broke my heart.

Today we have the second part of a two-part post on Australian trees, the eucalypts, contributed by Reader Dean Graetz. (Part 1 is here.) Dean’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

The Trees that identify Australia

Australia is one of many countries that include plants as part of their identity.  The national floral emblem is the Golden Wattle (Acacia pycnantha), one of more than 1000 Acacia species found on the continent.  The two colours of the plant represent the essence of the continent.  The golden flowers represent its beaches, mineral wealth, grain, and wool harvests.  The green of the (leathery) leaves imitates the continent’s forests and productive landscapes.

Sparsely located in the arid heart of the continent is this visually striking tree.  Commonly known as the Ghost Gum, it was recently renamed with an appropriate Aboriginal Australian species word (Corymbia aparrerinja).  A much more impressive image is here.

Similarly, sparsely located in the drier areas of the continent is this tree.  Evocatively named Bloodwood (Corymbia opaca), there appears no external colouring which supports that name.\

However, if you manage to find a seeping wound, then the reason for its name will be obvious, the colour of the exuding sap (Kino) is a vivid.

When sedentary farmers and graziers were added to Australia’s population, substantial areas of eucalypt woodland, about 13% of the continent, were transformed.  Trees were either clear-felled and burnt for cropping, or just thinned for pastures.  This satellite image shows a large area of mallee, a eucalypt woodland type (dark), cleared in part for growing (wheat) on the bright sandy soil.  The sharp boundary on the LHS is a state border.  Multiple millions of eucalypt trees have been removed here and elsewhere for the reality of it is ‘Either Them or Us’.

Snow Gum woodlands lie on the snow line and are episodically burnt by lightning-induced bushfires, as here.  The many tall stems of each tree have been killed and have bleached white in the high UV environment.  However, the trees are not dead.  Each tree had developed a lignotuber, and from this a ring of new shoots have sprouted and will replace the tree’s burned canopy in about 5 years, or so.  Even so, the sea of bone white, dead stems is eye catching.

An ephemeral dry-country watercourse with three tall River Red Gums (Eucalyptus camaldulensis), the most wide spread Eucalypt, from lining the banks of permanent rivers to tapping the subsurface water of this small dry creek.  Never visually elegant or symmetrical, these trees, with their scrabbling roots and scarred stems, suggest one word: Survivor.

As does this extraordinarily large River Red Gum, possibly the largest and oldest known.  Residing in a cleared paddock, it is still healthily growing and supporting a large canopy.  Eucalypts do not annual ring, so its age cannot be measured, just guessed at 300+ years.  The gap in the trunk was likely generated centuries ago by a small fire lit close to it sheltering from the wind.  Repeated often enough to burn through the sapwood and into the heartwood, thereafter the weather and dry rot eventually hollowed the stem but left the sapwood continuing to thrive today.

All Eucalypts produce very hard, dense wood, which when dried after death, is difficult to saw or cut.  A few species are known ‘branch droppers’: large living branches just drop off, for no obvious reason.  Such species are also known as ‘Widow Makers’ for the fatalities of sleepers and sitters under the canopy.  The River Red Gum – see above – is well-known Widow Maker’.  However, branch shedding usually leaves large openings into the stem to be eventually hollowed out and occupied by parrots, such as this Sulphur-Crested Cockatoo (Cacatua galerita).  Because all Australian parrot species are hollow nesters, dead and holed Eucalypts are much sought after trees.

For an Australian away from the built environment, the visual presence of familiar gum trees reinforces your identity: you are home.  There is another personal experience that builds on this.  And that is the smell of burning gum leaves.  In the past, and still today, whenever a small fire was lit ‘to boil the billy’, the fragrance of the fire was associated with friendship, convivial tea-drinking, and conversation.  Dried gum leaves were the perfect one-match fire starter.  The smell of burning gum leaves is pleasant, readily recognised, and soon becomes a deeply held memory.

“The families back home heard and understood this and sent gum leaves with their letters to those at the front.  Nurses wore gum leaves pinned to their capes.  Soldiers sometimes burned the leaves in small piles at the front line so the smell would drift along the trenches and others could be reminded of their country’s distinctive smell.

The smell of Eucalyptus is the smell of home.”

As we near the end of my photograph queue, we have a contribution from ecologist Susan Harrison of the University of California at Davis.  Her captions and narrative are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Birds on Non-Native (Alien, Invasive, Exotic….) Plants

Non-native species, usually ones introduced from other continents, are often called one of the worst threats to biodiversity, along with habitat loss, overexploitation, and climate change. We all know of terrible examples – kudzu, “the plant that ate the South”;  mammal-swallowing Burmese pythons in the Everglades; the grasses that fueled the Maui fires. There’s a long list of ecologically devastating non-native species (here are 100 of the worst ).

Some conservationists argue that we should make peace with many non-native species and appreciate any benefits conferred by them. Other commentators go further and charge that opposition to non-native species is nothing but xenophobia (a hotly contested viewpoint).  My one concession to this debate has been to shift to more neutral words (introduced, non-native) instead of potentially loaded ones (alien, exotic, invasive).

Birdwatching has sneakily softened my negativity toward non-native plants, however. One recent instance of this involved Sage Thrashers (Oreoscoptes montanus), a jauntily striped, melodious resident  of the Great Basin sagebrush country that has been scarce and evasive in my experience.  What a surprise it was to see veritable flocks of Sage Thrashers at Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, preparing for fall migration by gorging on berries of Russian Olive (Elaeagnus angustifolia) — one of the most hated non-native plants in U.S. deserts.  In a five-day period, I never saw these birds eating anything else.

Here are some Sage Thrashers eating Russian Olives:

You can readily get Californians arguing over “the great Eucalyptus debate” – whether these towering and widely-planted Australian trees should be protected or eradicated. Our riparian bird hotspots in Davis, California have Eucalyptus (mostly River Red Gum, Eucalyptus camaldulensis) mixed in with the native Valley Oaks (Quercus lobata), California Walnut (Juglans californica) and other trees.   It’s been a surprise to me how much native birds use Eucalyptus.

Black-headed Grosbeaks (Pheucticus melanocephalus), Bullock’s Orioles (Icterus bullocki), Western Tanagers (Piranga ludoviciana), and various warblers feed on lerp psyllids (Glycaspis brimblecombei), sap-sucking insects that arrived here from Australia in 1998.  Red-breasted Sapsuckers (Sphyrapicus ruber) skip the lerp psyllids and feed directly on Eucalyptus sap after drilling into the trunk.  The height of Eucalyptus trees makes them favored nest sites for raptors such as Great Horned Owls (Bubo virginianus).

Black-Headed Grosbeak on Eucalpytus:

Red-breasted Sapsucker on Eucalpytus:

Eucalyptus with lerp psyllids on leaves and sapsucker damage on trunk:

Great Horned Owl nest with nestling:

Here are birds using some other much-despised non-native plants at the local creek:

Lesser Goldfinch (Spinus psaltria) on Yellow Star-Thistle (Centaurea solstitialis):

House Finches (Haemorhous mexicanus) on Salt-Cedar or Tamarisk (Tamarix chinensis):

Savanna Sparrow (Passerculus sandwichensis) on Black Mustard (Brassica nigra):

At home, while I’ll continue dutifully planting the yard with natives, I confess to sometimes envying the abundance of birds on the neighbors’ ornamental plants.

Cedar Waxwings (Bombycillus cedrorum) on Cotoneaster (Cotoneaster):

Western Tanagers on Pear (Pyrus):